Never a Break Up
by Polly83
Summary: Post-ep for 'Nothing Gold Can Stay'. Because Jane and Lisbon have a lot of baggage to deal with, probably a lot more than the next three episodes can show us, but they can make it, together.


**Hello everyone! It's been a while since I posted anything, but last episode and theories about what is going to happen got me thinking, and this is the result. I usually read and reread everything until I'm satisfied (so I end up not posting at all), but this time you'll have to bear with me even if it's not really polished. **

**I hope you like it. **

**Well, obviously I do not own anything about The Mentalist except my musings…**

**Never a Break Up**

After Vega's funeral Jane decided to walk away from the cemetery. He'd arrived with Lisbon, in one of the FBI vehicles, but he didn't feel like going back in one of those. It didn't seem fair somehow.

So he walked, and walked, and walked. Nothing like a good walk to clear one's head, they say.

Well, his usually bright mind kept conjuring up worst case scenarios and kept coming back to the one thing that scared him more than death: losing the woman he loved. Again.

The first time he had been reckless, but he there was really no way he could have envisioned the consequences of his actions. Lots of people made mistakes, but almost none had their life destroyed by a serial killer the way he had. Now though… now he was perfectly aware of how dangerous her job was. The chances of her dying in a shootout, just like Vega, weren't so slim. He couldn't live his life like that. He couldn't just wait for the worst to happen. He just couldn't. The idea of going back to work on Monday was unbearable. And even if he tried to forget what happened to Vega and could happen to Lisbon too, he'd see Wylie's sad face looking at Vega's desk like a lost puppy and his mind would start all over again with possible deadly outcomes. How could he work on homicides with these thoughts constantly running through his head?

Given that walking didn't seem to be working he decided to go for a drive, finding someplace nice, where he could forget about murders for a while. Ideally with Lisbon, if she realized that decompressing didn't necessarily mean being disrespectful. They could just take the airstream over a hill, have lunch outside, that a walk, enjoy the view. Just being together, revelling in the fact they were still very much alive.

He missed her.

Jane was used to spend hours on end with the only company of his own thoughts (he did spent pretty much two years of his life doing just that after all…), but these last few months he had Lisbon to talk to, to go home with. Sure, sometimes his mind worked fast and he wasn't a patient man, so he'd just roll with his plans as soon as he'd make them, but it was nice from time to time to tell her, to watch her face light up as she caught up with him. It was endearing. And cute.

A look at his watch confirmed that it had been a long eight hours since he'd seen her.

Suddenly he was struck but the look on her face at the cemetery. She face showed worry, but also a great deal of hurt. He'd supposed she was hurt because of Vega, and also on his behalf, but what if… Se couldn't, could she? Could she really think he was leaving her… for good? Knowing Lisbon and knowing how many times he left and/or betrayed her she could, and probably did.

For a clever man he was really clueless sometimes…

With the thought of what she might be thinking to hunt him, he drove to her house and parked just outside her door, not caring about Lisbon's old neighbour or anyone else seeing the airstream there for the night. If she even still wanted him.

Crap, what if she really believed he had left, what if she had been alone and hurting for hours while he was taking a walk? He was the crappiest boyfriend ever. Easily.

And just last week he'd been thinking he was doing pretty well, planning a romantic weekend and all…

The lights were off. For a second Jane wondered if he was supposed to ring the bell instead of using his key, but he couldn't stand waiting on his side of the door.

So he managed, with slightly shaky hands, to open the door and close it behind him. Before he could try and figure out where she was he heard light steps rounding the corner of the living room.

She was hugging herself and she wore a sweatshirt, even if her house was quite warm. He expected her to look small and vulnerable, like her attire suggested she felt, but when he finally saw her eyes they were shooting daggers at him. He almost recoiled.

Before she could say anything he almost shouted "I'm an idiot!"

"That you are", she practically growled. So she had been hurt…

"I didn't realize how what I said could sound to you, I didn't mean what you might think I meant…" He was almost relieved to see that she had morphed her hurt into anger. It was easier to deal with her violent side. He still was clueless when it came to deal with hurting people. Even if the hurting was his best friend.

"What _did_ you mean Jane? Because what I heard was that you were _leaving_, that you were going somewhere nice and I could pretty much choose between leaving my job and everything else behind, yet again, and follow you God knows where, or losing you because _you_ couldn't stand to see _me_ in danger! _That_ was what I heard. By any means enlighten me and explain where I was wrong!"

Hearing her recounting his words from her perspective was like a slap in the face. Totally deserved, of course. Not to mention that the reasoning behind it sounded pretty stupid.

"I'm sorry. I'm messed up, you know I am." She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again, probably wanting to hear his explanation before biting his head off.

"I kept thinking that I couldn't live like that, wondering when it was going to be your turn. I kept imagining something bad happening to you, so much so that I started to believe it was a question of when it would happen, not if."

"Well, thanks for trusting my ability to do my job." She snarled.

"That's not…" He stopped. He needed to think through his sentences before he uttered them because he was digging his own grave here. "You are good at your job Lisbon, you are very good. Sometimes I think you wouldn't even need me if only you trusted your instincts a little more. But you are trained to save others, you grew up raising your brothers, you took care of me when everybody else would have just thrown me out of the window. You _care_; you want to make things better. And that's a good thing, that's one of the reasons why I love you, but… but this instinct you have… of helping others… it means you don't hold yourself back. I'm not saying you're not capable, trust me! I've seen you tackle a guy twice your size, so I know how scary you can be. I'm not even saying that you're reckless, but one day you could have to choose between saving yourself and saving someone else and you'd choose to save others. On top of all the normal things that could go wrong in an operation and result in you being hurt. And all that terrifies me."

He closed his eyes and sighed. That gave her time to interrupt, but he stopped her before she could complete a sentence. He needed to explain now, before he lost his courage.

"Jane, I know you've been hurt, but…"

"But I haven't explained anything so far. My point was… when I left the cemetery I went for a walk, to clear my head. In that moment I thought I couldn't keep living like that the rest of my life, I needed to regroup and stop panicking before making any hasty decisions. I didn't mean I was leaving the FBI _right that moment_. And, most of all, I never meant I was leaving _you_".

He dared taking one step in her direction and sighed in relief when she didn't back down.

"I didn't mean it was a break up. I meant I wanted to think about quitting, I wanted to consider possible solutions, about my contract with the FBI, about us. But I knew I was coming back in a few hours. Lisbon, you are the most important person in my world, I could never leave you for… for anything! In my mind it never was a break up."

He stretched out his right hand to touch her arm, but she shrugged it away as soon as she felt the contact. Not a good sign…

"And how was I supposed to know that Jane? How was I supposed to know that you'd come back if you didn't _say_ it? I'm not psychic, I don't read minds!"

"But I love you…" In his mind loving her meant not leaving willingly. Not now, not ever. But clearly in her mind it didn't.

"Well, the first time you said you loved me, it didn't stop you from leaving, so that's not really enough of a proof."

Of course those words had to come back to bite him sooner or later. There was no point in pretending he didn't remember. He sighed again. She was right. She was his world, but he hadn't shown it. All the romantic gestures in the world didn't mean a thing if she didn't know what he felt, what he thought, what he was willing to do for her, for them. The only thing she had ever asked of him was to tell her the truth, but there was so much he still didn't _say_.

"You're right. I… The last thing I wanted was to hurt you…"

"Well, then you did a crappy job at that."

He totally deserved it. "Yes, I did." But she had to see that it didn't make sense for him to leave her behind, that he'd never do something _that_ foolish… "Look, all this happened because I'm terrified of losing you, and if I left you behind I'd never see you anyway, so what would be the point?"

The echo of his words was still in the air when he felt his cheek stinging and realized she had slapped him. Hard. And he hadn't even seen it coming.

"Don't you dare use logic on me, Jane! Nothing you did was logic! You left me thinking I'd never see you again, and it wasn't even the first time. Nor the second. This afternoon I thought you'd brooded enough and started looking for you, only to find out that the airstream was gone. The only thing I ever asked of you was to talk to me and yet, you run off with your hunches without consulting with anyone most of the time. I told you I loved you and it looks like you don't give a damn about that because otherwise you could never say what you said today. Not to me. You don't get to say that you dying 'doesn't hurt you', because it hurts _me_, you selfish bastard! If I'm not just a tool to you, then you should think about me. Not as someone that you need to keep you sane and entertained, but as a person that loves you and would be hurt if something happened to you. You don't get to run into threatening situations with no back up to prevent me, a trained agent, from being part of an operation. You don't get to decide how much danger is acceptable. You don't get to imply that your death is an acceptable outcome because _you_ wouldn't hurt. Do you realize how messed up that is? You lost your wife and your daughter, alright, but now, because you already went through that, you can't stand to think about me dying?! Just because I wasn't married and I didn't lose a family do you think I can bear it better than you? That it's my turn now? What the hell Jane! I might not have lost a husband, but I lost my mother and then my father. I saw my family fall apart, so I'm not exactly clueless. And let's make this clear, even if I was, even if I never suffered loss in my entire life, it doesn't make it okay to say that it's a relief to you an outcome where you die and I live. It is utterly _not okay_ to wish I went through what you went through!"

Jane's mind registered with horror that, behind the rage firing in her eyes, there were also tears threatening to spill. But his little spitfire stubbornly refused to stop until she had done with her rant.

"When I came home I got thinking about all your issues. I tried to understand where you came from, I tried to understand why you acted the way you did, I really tried. But then I realized that it's always the same with you. You don't get to make demands and not offer anything in return. A relationship doesn't work like that. I admit I'm not an expert in long-lasting relationships, but the one thing I know is that there should be some sort of give and take. I took my chances when I left my life in Washington. I'm glad I came to the FBI no matter what, but I thought I'd made my point clear when I said that you should have taken me into account, so why didn't you this time either? Why is it that when you work cases you always see the bigger picture, but you still have tunnel vision when you deal with other people on a personal level? The only thing I wanted, Jane, was to be taken into consideration. I don't think it's asking too much, do you?"

Jane really felt like a jerk now. How was I possible to miss all that?! All that rage, all that anger… Everything had been so good in the last few months… so good that he had forgotten he was supposed to work on being a decent human being. Did Islamorada not teach him anything?

"It's not. And I don't know."

"Uh?" The good thing was her rant had obviously made her feel better. She didn't look like she wanted to murder him anymore and she didn't seem teary-eyed either. Jane, on the other hand, was pretty emotional.

"It's not asking too much and I don't know why I keep doing that. I actually like telling you my plans, I like the way you smile when you reach the same conclusion I reached. You are absolutely right. I do have tunnel vision and I didn't even realize it. I was so caught up with protecting you that I… that I left you out, that I made decisions for you instead of with you. And now I feel really stupid because I have this memory palace, I have all these memories stored away, I can recall every conversation we had about this, yet I did the opposite of what you asked. And the worst thing is that I don't know why and I can't promise I won't do it again if I didn't realize I was doing it! How am I supposed to make everything better? How am I supposed to ask you to trust me if I keep doing the same mistakes over and over again?"

"You don't."

Her voice was so low he'd barely heard her. "Uh?"

"You don't have to ask. You just promise that you'll try. And if you make mistakes you'll let me yell at you some more. Hopefully one day it'll get into that thick head of yours…"

"Just like that?" Did he say that out loud? Apparently he did, if the amused look on her face is any indication. "We still have a lot to discuss…"

"Yeah, we do. But not tonight. I'm really tired, and so are you. We need some time to let things settle down. Just… tell me that you'll try not to make me feel like a pawn and I'll try to take your fear into consideration before jumping headfirst into something potentially dangerous."

How had he managed to make her feel like a tool in his box again? And how could she forgive him again? He was still amazed by her endless ability to forgive.

"I'm sorry. And it feels overused and meaningless now, but I really am."

"I know you are. I know it was never your intention to make me feel like that, I know that, in your mind, you see things differently from what I see, but I need to know that you're not just making empty promises. I can't spend my life wondering if you ever take my feelings into account, if you even care what I feel."

"_I do_. I do care. I might not be good human material, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying."

"The rest of your life, uh?"

Oh, he had missed that particular smile, the little smile she had when she was pleased or proud of herself. Just like the first time she said she loved him.

"Yes, of course. I thought it was implied… Wasn't it?" Apparently not.

How had he even convinced her to leave a good, stable man, who wanted to marry her, to be with a broken man who couldn't even reassure her he had every intention of sticking around?

He had left so many things implied, so many matters yet to be discussed. Those matters probably would still need to be discussed in the morning, but right now he could give her what she wanted, the truth.

"Well, I love you Lisbon. It might not look that way sometimes, but I do. There are not so many people I care about, and even less that I have loved. Two are in the past, and one in the present. When I lost my family I lived for revenge, but slowly you started healing me, little by little. You are so many things to me… You are the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last before falling asleep. Not a day goes by that I don't feel grateful for having you in my life. The fact that I don't have a definite plan doesn't mean that I don't expect to spend the rest of my life with you. I don't know what I'll do tomorrow or next month or next year, but I know I want you to be there with me." He finally reached out to touch her and she let him. "If you want." He needed her as close as possible, and she probably needed him just as much, so he put his arms around her and hugged her.

Her reply came in the form of a puff of air on his neck. "Of course I want, you idiot!"

In that moment he finally recognized why she was so hung up on saying the truth. As long as they said what they were thinking, and as long as they acknowledged being together as a priority, they'd know where they stood. Both he and Lisbon needed to hear that the other wouldn't give up so they could put their energies into fighting to find a solution. They needed to know that there would never be a break up, if they could help it.

5


End file.
